


let it happen, let it reach you

by sunsetdawn (abominablesnowlinski)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), F/F, Gen, Slight Canon Divergence, The Great Fodlan Bakeoff, Verdant Wind route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abominablesnowlinski/pseuds/sunsetdawn
Summary: “Oh, thank you,” Marianne stutters. She had heard talk of Hilda’s growing beauty over the years, but she didn’t think it possible that her friend had room to improve. Like everything she did, Hilda found ways to surprise everyone, it seems.“These flowers,” Marianne starts, realizing it’s odd to revel in your best friend’s beauty as a way of greeting her, “They’re, um, very stunning. Your eye for these things has only improved.”--It's almost five years after the date the Golden Deer made their promise to reunite at Garreg Mach and Marianne knows she can't return alone.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	let it happen, let it reach you

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the second Great Fódlan Bakeoff! It's born out of my disbelief that Hilda and Marianne didn't return together after the timeskip, and the sheer amount of pride I had for Marianne during her A support with Byleth. It's my first time writing (letting alone sharing) a piece of fanfiction in many years, so I hope you enjoy.
> 
> The title of the fic is from the song Red Brick by BUMPER.

With every step she takes, the delicate porcelain balancing on Marianne’s tray jitters and clinks, echoing through the alabaster adorned halls. She’s holding her breath, staring at the teapot with an intense focus, willing the hot water inside to stay put for just a few more moments. She’s walked nearly the length of the Goneril estate without spilling a drop; surely she’ll make it a few more moments.

She rounds the corner and her eyes drift of their own accord to Hilda’s hair, glowing vermillion in the sunset’s hazy brushes of hue. Hilda’s turned such that the tall windows sit just behind her, the long, chiffon curtains gently flowing towards her in the breeze. In front of her sits a beautiful vase half-filled with flowers and greenery, and all around her feet are crates of more of Leicester’s finest blooms, waiting to be chosen and placed expertly by her hand.

It is certainly something, how Hilda can make a near-empty castle burst with life.

Hilda looks and beams at Marianne then, and Marianne feels her lips soften into a smile. “Marianne!” Hilda sing-songs, standing and walking towards her. “My favorite girl, here with tea? To what do I owe this sweetest treat?”

Marianne prays to the Goddess that Hilda misses her flush and assumes it’s a trick of the sun when she takes the tray from her, feeling the soft leather of her gloves brush against her fingers. Hilda effortlessly moves petals aside and places the tray on the table, her unfinished arrangement blooming above the Gloucester tea set. She pulls out the chair opposite hers and gestures for Marianne to sit, still smiling with all the light of the sun.

“Oh, thank you,” Marianne stutters. She takes a moment to gather her skirts as she sits, hands gently shaking. She had heard talk of Hilda’s growing beauty over the years, but she didn’t think it possible that her friend had room to improve. Like everything she did, Hilda found ways to surprise everyone, it seems.

“These flowers,” Marianne starts, realizing it’s odd to revel in your best friend’s beauty as a way of greeting her, “They’re, um, very stunning. Your eye for these things has only improved.”

“Oh, please. This is nothing, I’m just bored.” Hilda waves her off, wiping off escaped water around the teapot with a rag. “Holst has been gone for months now with the fighting, and he’s taken nearly every person in a five mile radius with him. It’s so quiet these days, Marianne. I almost cleaned my room the other day just to have something to do!”

Marianne giggles, reflecting on the fact that she’s never once seen Hilda’s room in anything but a state of perfection during her visits to the estate. “It is quiet at my adoptive father’s home, too. But that isn’t too different from how it was before I left for school, really. I’m sure it is much more, uh, disconcerting here, for you.”

Hilda hums, eyes flittering across Marianne’s face. “Well, it was,” she leans forward, grabbing Marianne’s hands with hers, “But now with you here, there’s nowhere I’d rather be!” Hilda gives her a wink, and Marianne moves her hands to the teapot before she stops breathing. “Oh, no, Marianne, let me. You’re a guest, after all.”

Hilda plucks the teapot from her and pours them each a cup as she continues. “So, my lovely Marianne, you didn’t answer my question!”

Marianne looks away from the immaculate tray, forgetting her admiration for how calmly Hilda pours her tea. “O-oh?”

“Yes, silly.” Hilda takes the smallest sip from her cup. “Oh, a rose blend! Marianne, you’re too good. Yes, my question: what’s got you travelling this far South? And don’t say the weather or I’ll know you’re lying.”

Marianne picks at her thumbnail in her lap, averting her eyes to the flowers once more. “Oh, well. I suppose I came for you.”

When Hilda doesn’t speak or gush right away, Marianne chances a glance back at her, worried she’s said the wrong thing. Hilda’s staring at her, her mouth slightly hanging open. Oh, no— she certainly has.

“I, well, um, that is to say, well, you know, it’s been nearly five years since we, um, left the monastery, and, well, I was thinking of you. Of everyone,” she rushes out. At that, Hilda’s expression changes again, but somehow Marianne thinks this one is worse.

“Five years, huh.” Hilda takes another sip of her tea, adjusts the way a stem of baby’s breath is sitting in the vase. “I hadn’t realized it’s been that long.” She says it with just enough nonchalance that Marianne knows she’s lying, but she can’t figure out why Hilda would want her to think she’d forgotten.

“Yes,” Marianne tries. “Time seems much quicker these days.”

Quicker isn’t quite the word for it, though. Ever since that day when Edelgard had stormed Garreg Mach and Marianne found herself healing wounds dealt by her classmates, ever since Claude rose to his title and led them, united, ever since the Professor— well.

Ever since they watched her fall, the passage of time has seemed clumsier.

Hilda is uncharacteristically quiet, her expression still unreadable. Marianne takes a sip of the tea and steels herself to press on. “Do you remember the promise we made? To… Claude?”

Hilda hums. “To Claude and the Professor, yes. I do.” She sighs, suddenly overexaggerated and exuberant, and places her chin in her hands. “You know, Marianne, it’s certainly sweet, but you must be misremembering. We agreed to meet at the Goddess Tower, silly, not here.”

Marianne frowns, curling her hands around her cup. “I-I know that, I would never mess something that important up.” It’s mortifying, really, to hear that Hilda thinks she couldn’t even keep that fact straight. She must have been even more helpless during their time at school than she had feared. “I’m sorry,” she stutters, shaking as she smooths her skirt and stands. “This was silly, you’re right.”

“Marianne, no, I’m sorry!” Hilda reaches out, lightning fast, and catches Marianne’s hand. Marianne jumps, eyes wide as she turns back. Hilda’s eyebrows are knitted, her mouth pulled into a thin line, but her eyes seem transfixed on something out the window. “I knew what you meant. I didn’t mean to mock you, I’m sorry. I just… well. You caught me off guard, that’s all. Leonie would be so disappointed in me. Though, I guess that isn’t all that new.”

Hilda purses her lips, but seems to have nothing else to say, so Marianne cautiously turns and places her other hand on the cuff of Hilda’s glove. “It’s alright.” Hilda doesn’t seem to relax, but her shoulders do drop ever so slightly. Marianne wracks her brain for something to say, something comforting she could do. At a loss, she cautiously rubs her thumb across the back of Hilda’s hand, remembering how it would calm her whenever Hilda did the same.

Eventually, Hilda speaks. “Are you going, then? To Garreg Mach?” She looks back at her, finally, her eyes bright, somehow reflecting all of the sunset’s colors and more back at Marianne. She takes a deep breath.

“I— I don’t know, truly. I know it sounds crazy, Hilda, but… it seems a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought of the Professor, and what she did for us. I know I’m still a burden, I couldn’t even surprise you with tea right, but… but I am different, now, because of her.” Marianne glances down to Hilda’s hand in hers. “And because of you, too. And I know it would make her so happy, if she knew we all returned.”

“Oh, Marianne,” Hilda says, softer than before. “That doesn’t sound crazy at all.”

Marianne can’t help but smile. “Would you come, then? I know that is a lot to ask, but, well. I’ve just missed you so terribly, and the others, too.”

Hilda stands and walks to the windows, gently pulling Marianne along with her. Together, they look out over the expanse of gardens, rich auburn and scarlet colors sprawling out towards the horizon. Even with a small staff, it seems Hilda’s kept the entire estate still impeccable, even though she’d never admit she had a part in it.

“Marianne, you know that I cherish you, but,” Hilda lets out a long breath, eyes scanning the landscape beneath her. “Of course I miss them too. Lysithea, Claude, Raphael, even Lorenz, sort of. But he can never know that.” Hilda bumps her hip against Marianne’s and grins, and Marianne cannot help the way she laughs in turn. Hilda’s grin slowly melts into a smile, a real one, too, and Marianne feels warmth bloom in her chest. But then, the smile disappears, and Hilda looks back out once more.

“But I don’t think I can go back. After all, I can’t imagine half of them will show, and that’d be mortifying, wouldn’t it? Being the only one there? And a waste of time, too. I’m, you know,” Hilda lazily gestures out at the gardens, pristine and perfect, waiting for no one. “... needed here,” she finishes weakly.

Marianne tugs on Hilda’s hand, spurred on by the feeling from before. “But what if they do, Hilda? What if they do come back, and no one is there for them? Wouldn’t _that_ be even worse? Maybe, maybe we have to be brave and go anyway, even if no one may show. Because that way, if anyone else goes, they won’t be alone.”

To say that Hilda looks stunned would be an understatement, so Marianne is halfway through an apology when Hilda’s throwing her arms around her and lifting her in a crushing embrace.

“Mariaaaaanne!” She coos. “I know this is serious, but I’m so proud of you!”

“O-oh, um, Hilda—”

“That was the most rousing speech I’ve ever heard! Oh, Marianne, the Professor would be _so_ proud—”

“Hilda, please, put me down—”

“Marianne.” Hilda’s finally stopped spinning her, thank the Goddess, and is staring with so much adoration that Marianne thinks she’s going to faint even if the vertigo stops. “Listen. You’re right. You came all the way here on your own just to make me realize I’ve been an idiot, and I’m so proud of you.”

“Oh, no, Hilda, you aren’t— you aren’t an idiot at all.”

Hilda laughs as she sets Marianne down. “Maybe not, but I had really convinced myself I’d rather be alone than embarrassed. Especially, when I think about, that I know Claude’ll show for sure. Last I heard, he’s still got half the Riegan house scouring for the Professor, of course he’ll be there. How could I look foolish with a lovesick noble like him around?” 

Marianne giggles, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Hilda, you know that isn’t very nice.” Hilda shrugs, leaning in to fix the clips holding Marianne’s hair up. The feeling from before is back, but tenfold. “So, you’ll come with me?”

Hilda clicks her tongue, moving her hands from Marianne’s hair back to her hands. “You know, I’m not convinced Lysithea will think it’s worth her time or that Raphael will even remember, but if you trust them, then I do too. Marianne, I will come with you anywhere that you go.”

Marianne blushes once more, but this time, the nerves don’t seem to come with it. And if Hilda is blushing too, well, maybe she’ll just blame it on the light. “It is the same for me with you, Hilda.”

Hilda laughs, warm and bright, and pulls Marianne in again, but this time lets her feet stay on the ground. They stay there, giggling and joyous, and when Marianne looks out again, she sees the trailing tendrils of the sunset: brilliant, and golden.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter! [@sunsetdawnOnTwitter](https://twitter.com/sunsetdawnOnTwi)


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